


Dreams in Angband

by orphan_account



Series: A Prisoner Corrupted [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Cousin Incest, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Interrupted, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5470568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Maeglin gets some deep sleep while imprisoned by Morgoth. Little does he know, there is always more beneath the surface of one's experiences in the dark fortress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams in Angband

**Author's Note:**

> Reader beware: this fic gets pretty angsty towards the middle

Maeglin was placed in his cell again after standing up to Morgoth. The vile creature was a fool if he thought he could offer Maeglin anything nearly valuable enough to warrant the treason of revealing Gondolin’s location. 

Every inch of him was on high alert. This would be a turning point in his captivity, and almost certainly for the worst. Either Morgoth would continue to torment him—more brutally and more creatively—in the hopes that he would break and give in to the dark lord’s wishes, or he would be killed. Maeglin doubted it would be the quick, clean end that he had wished for these past few weeks. 

That was why Maeglin grew so surprised over the course of the next few days when the exact opposite of all his predictions occurred. He was treated better. Relatively fresh bread and butter, with the occasional vegetable, were brought to his cell twice each day. 

This new turn of events failed to ease his mind. In fact, it put him more on edge than ever before. While he didn’t know what to think of the state of things, Maeglin definitely was not relieved by his comfortable treatment. This was Angband. There would be no happy ending for him. Only two possibilities had been available for him ever since he had passed through the imposing gates: betray his kin or suffer. 

Maeglin was tired beyond description. He barely ever slept for more than what seemed an hour, and when he did leave consciousness behind, he was still sensitive to his environment. And thus he slept very lightly. Every scream, every sound from deep within the bowels of the fortress, could easily rouse him from his slumber. That was why, when Maeglin dreamt for the first time during his imprisonment, it clearly was not natural. 

* * *

 _He was sitting on a chair in front of the fireplace in his chambers. What first came to his attention were the garments he was wearing. They were vividly colored, and richly embroidered. The sounds of merry making wafting in from the open balcony brought with them a sense of déja vu. With the knowledge of where (or rather,_ when) _this was came a stab of acute pain in his heart and gut._

“Why am I experiencing this again?” _Maeglin thought to himself, vision blurring as the heartache he felt threatened to manifest in the form of tears. Tonight the eldar of Gondolin were celebrating Idril’s betrothal to that conceited, worthless mortal._

_Over time, as his Princess spurned his advances, one after the other, Maeglin grew depressed and forlorn. Yet there had always been hope to propel him. Hope that she would realize how much he cared for her. Hope that she would disregard the laws of their people and return his love. But tonight, with this engagement, Irdil took the first step on a path he could not follow her down. Tuor had taken everything that Maeglin lived for, that kept him going. In just one year, the marriage would make it permanent, and he would be forever alone._

_The breeze coming from the open balcony door roused him from his pain just as he was about to break down, sobbing._

_“_ Of course _,” he thought to himself, “_ it’s so obvious.Why didn’t I think of this before? _”_

_Maeglin knew exactly what he had to do to end his pain. It would be such a relief to be free of this emotional turmoil forever. He slowly got up and started inching his way toward the balcony, feet feeling as heavy as lead._

_He paused in surprise as he heard a gentle tapping on the door, not being sure what to do. He didn’t respond. Did not want to speak with nor see anybody. The knocking was repeated. Again Maeglin did not answer. Whoever it was needed to get the hint and realize there was probably no one in here._

_Barely a moment later, the door was slowly and gently opened. Curiosity getting the better of him, he turned to see who it was. Maeglin would never have guessed this intruder’s identity if given a thousand chances. She ought to be in the great hall, enjoying the celebration thrown in honor of her and her betrothed._

_Idril spoke before Maeglin could question her._

_“The guest have started worrying about your absence. What has brought you up here, my dear.”_

_Anger flashed within him at her words. Maeglin hated that she teased him with these endearments of hers. She knew very well how much he cared for her, loved her, desired her. And yet, Idril seemed to make a sport of spurning him. He contained himself though, choosing simply to answer her question._

_“I am not in a state of mind conducive to merry-making. I stayed for what I thought an appropriate amount of time, but now I would really like to be with my own thoughts, if you do not mind. And besides, the only ones the guests care about today are you and Tuor, do you not agree?”_

_“What has Tuor got to do with it?” she asked, brow furrowed. “Maeglin, it is_ our _engagement feast. and I don’t know why you hide in your rooms, so sorrowful.”_

_Maeglin’s mind reeled. He simply could not comprehend how this had suddenly become his celebration, how he was suddenly engaged to his beautiful, self-assured cousin. Had not Turgon told him…?_

  _Idril spoke again, interrupting his thoughts._

_“I know you’ve suffered more in your short life than anyone should. You surely understand though, that I can relate to some of your sorrows, and my heart weeps with yours.* We cannot undo the past, Lómion, but we can comfort ourselves.”_

_Maeglin had drawn closer to Irdil as they were speaking, and he watched curiously as she backed into the carved wooden door. Once a clicking sound announced its full closure, she looked up intently at him as her hands found the lacing on her dress that held it together._

_“You know I would do anything to see you happy, Lómion,” Idril said softly. Maeglin’s heart started beating faster with excitement as he realized what she was doing, and what the implications of her actions were. Idril had successfully loosened the knot at the top of her low neckline and Maeglin watched, entranced, as her bosom was freed a bit from its tight hold._

_She stilled as he started approaching her slowly. Very slowly. He was fearful that any sudden move might cause this beautiful, fascinating vision to disappear. Yet Idril remained where she was, barely moving yet so real, as he reached out and pushed her sleeves over her shoulders. Her skin felt so warm, so deliciously inviting…_

* * *

A harsh laugh brought Maeglin out of his dream like a jolt. Despite his shock at being awoken so suddenly, he immediately noticed many unpleasant sensations: his parched throat that felt like he had not tasted water in ages, the ringing in his ears, his blurry vision. Maeglin was tied to a wooden bench with iron chains. He saw someone sitting by him, at the edge of his field of vision; the source of the laughter. 

“Dear me, what salacious dreams our little prisoner has,” the being said mockingly. It was Morgoth. Maeglin could recognize that gravely voice anywhere; it never failed to leave him nauseated. He wanted to make some defiant remark, to rebel against the apparent invasion of his mind, but his throat was too dry to allow for speech. 

Morgoth continued, “It seems the treasures of Gondolin are greater than I expected. If only I knew where it was…”

Silence. The monster had stopped talking, but Maeglin knew it was not for lack of anything to say. 

“I could give you so much Maeglin, if you only let me. Your life has been so miserable, has it not? Being neglected by your father. Watching your mother die by his hand. Never quite belonging in your uncle’s house.” 

Despite how desiccated his body had become, a few tears flowed from corners of his eyes as the words brought back those horrid emotions the bitter events of his life evoked. He felt that same raw, heart-wrenching sorrow he had felt upon watching his mother’s soul departing her. Maeglin felt that same bitterness which settled in his heart whenever someone’s odd glance reminded him that Gondolin’s inhabitants thought him a strange outsider. 

Morgoth barely stopped speaking for a moment before continuing, “You could rule Gondolin as it’s high prince. Every elf would swear fealty to you on bended knee, as no one would ever dare oppose my will.”

Maeglin tensed his jaw, his way of showing the Morgoth that his words had no effect.

“I’d give you the beautiful elleth you dreamed of,” Morgoth than told him rather quietly. He must have been waiting for the words to sink in, as he continued only after a long moment, “Once she knew your love, once she experienced it, your dear cousin would never think of that Second-born again. She’d beg for your touch, she’d cry out your name like a prayer. You would be the only one occupying her thoughts. You’d be master of her heart and body” 

Even if there was but a slight chance Morgoth was telling the truth, Maeglin would have to take this risk. For capturing Idril’s love was his only purpose in life. 

“Gondolin is housed in a vale enclosed by the Encircling Mountains. It is impossible to find if one had no clear path, yet I know exactly how to get to the Hidden Way on foot,” Maeglin managed to croak out. His throat felt like cracking, so dry it was.  

He stopped speaking, knowing that saying anything more would mean the end—the end of the life he had known before being brought here. Yet it was a life devoid of Idril’s love. 

When Morgoth asked how one was to find the Hidden Way, Maeglin answered him. 

**Author's Note:**

> *Both of their mothers died suddenly


End file.
